


Get out, knight, I’m not your Fair Lady

by captainhook



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Banter, Fantasy, Humor, M/M, Out of Character, Swearing, Translation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25236823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhook/pseuds/captainhook
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a prince in a high tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon. A lot of people wanted to get the prince out of the tower, but no one ever did. And it wasn’t even the dragon, it was the prince himself who didn’t want to be rescued. He just didn’t need it.
Kudos: 5





	1. The princess who paid the dragon to guard her and hid in the tower

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Проваливай, рыцарь, я не твоя Прекрасная Дама](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/647584) by мурчание осени. 



To protect his eyes from the idiots constantly flashing before him, Sherlock  once packed up all the stuff he needed, took as much money as he could fit in his bag and pockets, and went far away from his home.

If it were possible, Holmes would not have taken the glittering heavy coins, because for him it seemed to be an unnecessary trifle, for which the great lords would have cut each other’s throats. In addition, chests in the dungeons of his castle were full with these “trifles”, and Sherlock often played with the gold coins as a child, building different structures with them, which always evoked an adorable expression on his mother’s face.

Since then, the money has remained a toy in Holmes' eyes, but it has been valuable to other people and even to dragons. 

So Sherlock showed up to the cave of one such monster and politely started to knock on the stone, while shouting loudly: “Get your ass out, I need to talk to you!” The dragon, being an ancient and wise being, did not like this treatment, to which it responded with a sharp exhalation of fire. It always scared off all the unwanted guests, of which there were few, not everyone would go after one of the most dangerous monsters, and the ones who did it were usually the different weirdos, who have something wrong with their head.

The dragon finally had to come out from its hideout, as the unknown troublemaker did not even think to stop and continued to summon the ancient creature.

In front of its surprised snout, a bag full of gold was carelessly thrown and someone ordered, that’s right, ordered, to guard His Highness from attacks on his serenity.

The coins shone in such an alluring way, and the offeror was so interesting that the dragon agreed and went after the prince. 

It turns out this stranger really turned out to be a prince, even though the ancient being always believed that those with noble blood also had courtesy, but this was clearly not about Sherlock Holmes. He was rude, arrogant and terribly entitled, and this was easy to understand, because the guy kept going on and on about how his family, and others, are idiots, but especially his older brother, Mycroft, who was probably already making a fuss over the disappearance of his baby bro.

Yeah, the dragon’s name was Gregory, or simply Greg, but Sherlock chose to forget about that, and when they got to the tower, he just reminded it not to let anyone near him, and if anyone had the guts to fight the monster, it can chew that crazy man in half or throw him away. Holmes didn’t care as long as no one bothered him.

“Well, hello, pretty girl,” Sherlock said, when he climbed into the tower and saw the free space — a field for his actions and only for him.

Indeed, Mycroft made a fuss over his younger brother, and when he learned that he had somehow found himself in a tower, guarded by a fearful dragon, he issued a decree offering mountains of money and almost a manna for saving Sherlock Holmes, one of the heirs to the throne.

“They’re out there looking for you,” the dragon said by the tower. It was so huge, it was as big as the tip of the stone structure.

“Fools, they’re wasting their time,” Holmes responded, looking out the window. “You’re supposed to be guarding me, not sleeping here. I’m worried about my peace of mind.”

“A couple of guys came in today who wanted to set you free, but as soon as they saw me, they took off,” smoke came out of the creature’s nostrils, like out of an oven. “It’s enough for me to just lie here.”

“I hired you because I thought you were a dangerous monster, and you’re just a lazy animal!”

Holmes began to make noise in his tower, furiously rattling his possessions, which mostly had only scientific applications. 

Greg has sometimes wondered, how can this little man live there without food or any other amenities? But Holmes was doing just fine, sometimes completely silent for days, torturing the violin and occasionally sneaking out to collect the samples he needed for experiments.

The dragon tried to wonder what exactly His Highness was doing, but His Highness would just say that Gregory was a “dumb animal”, and throw some jar at it when he was furious. 

Should have eaten that arrogant man, but it was just a pipe dream, because Greg was a responsible dragon with a sense of honour. It wouldn’t eat the guy who paid it off. Besides, the ancient creature knew how to get revenge on the prince.

“O, prince charming, I have come to rescue you from the dragon’s clutches and return you to your kingdom.”

Sherlock literally got offended, when he heard those horrible words. He was sorting different types of soil without a care in the world, almost saying “My precious”, and then this happens. Well, the prince asked this lazy dragon with some name to guard him against such noblemen, but something must have gone wrong.

“Beat it!” Holmes screamed without even looking out of the tower. He had hope that the intruder would finally leave, as Sherlock politely asked him to, but to his utter displeasure, no one listened to him.

“I think the wind is playing tricks on my ears because my eyes see you need help.”

“I told you to go away! You don’t have to save me!” the prince finally looked out. 

“So, the stories were true, you really are like a beautiful lady!”

“Get out, knight, I’m not your Fair Lady!”

“The dragon must have cast an evil spell on you that has disturbed your consciousness. But don’t worry, I will return you to your glorious parents, and the confusion will fade! I swear on my honour!”

“What a chosen idiot…”

And then this saviour, to the horror of Holmes, started, with his jangling armour, climbing up the tower.

“I’ll save you.”

“Good God, no.”

“Don’t worry.”

“I’m worried, you asshole, that you’re gonna ruin everything!”

“Almost there.”

“No!”

And Sherlock found a massive clay pot and threw it at the knight, but the shell flew past its target.

“What are you doing, Your Highness?”

“What do you think?” asked Holmes and he grabbed the next item for the light knight’s head.

“Your mind is really messed up, don’t do that!”

“Bye-bye!”

This time the shell found its place and successfully crashed, causing the knight to roll and fall to the ground.

“Tell my brother I’m not going back!”

“Unholy… Unholy.”

When the “savior” crawled in an unknown direction, the dragon appeared, somehow trembling strangely, and issued an incomprehensible cluck.

“You were supposed to protect me!”

The dragon started clucking even more. 

“Hey!” Holmes was almost hanging from the window frame.

“I’m not your Fair Lady,” The dragon panted and fell helplessly to the ground, shaking and causing the earth to tremble around it.

A few seconds later, Sherlock, blushing, realised the creature was laughing.

That’s how they lived, the prince and the dragon.

Perhaps, the very first knight, who happened to have the misfortune to clash his head with the elegantly thrown at it pot of His Highness' own hands, has never conveyed Sherlock’s words to his brother: saving the prince is not necessary, he does not want to see boring court faces, and wants loneliness, stone walls and a pinch of mud from Wessex.

Holmes kept telling Greg that that was why he had left his lands and his castle with all its comforts and riches: no one understood him. If the prince tried to defend his point of view, to fight for his own wishes, he was simply ignored. To all, he was His Majesty Sherlock William Scott Holmes, not just Sherlock. 

To the dragon, of course, the young prince did not say all this in plain language, all this meaning, which is indicated above, was collected by Greg carefully and painstakingly, because the whole essence was concealed behind poignant phrases with an impossible number of “sweet” words. 

At some point, the dragon even felt sorry for this underestimated and foreign to others prince, but when the greeting of the guy began with “Hey, lazy animal” the creature was only more willing to mock the young lord.

Greg performed its duties almost perfectly, precisely “almost”. After all, it had to teach the rude Holmes a lesson, and the dragon itself was bored to lie on the ground and guard the tower in a theatrically warrior-like manner. So sometimes it would make a whole show for itself. What a spectacle it was when Sherlock, in a panic, would start to ward off his noble husbands, fearing that his peace would be disturbed.

The dragon looked with its slit-like eyes with melting gold in them at the “selected” warriors, who it would have let pass beyond itself. Yes, not everyone has been honored to come to the tower, because not everyone was able to entertain the ancient creature. One’s armour didn’t shine dashingly enough in the sun, the other’s hair didn’t dance mesmerizingly enough in the wind. Every little thing was important, and Greg noticed everything.

So it listened with special pleasure as one of the nobles sang a serenade for Holmes, and one even tried to lure the prince out with a beautiful patterned blade, while comparing it to the prince’s beauty. 

What they didn’t know was that it didn’t take much to get Sherlock out of the tower. You could have just offered him that Welsh mud or a piece of an interesting plant. Greg could have sworn that this mad experiment-loving prince would run out of his hideout and almost jump on this fine man’s neck.

The dragon was surprised when one husband had done so, but had given the dragon a delicious berry tea with mint beforehand.


	2. The healer, who brought a sacred pinch of dirt

“Would you like some tea?”

“Tea?”

“You know, with berries and mint.”

“Mint?”

“Mint.”

“And berries?”

“Berries.”

“I would.”

The short man began to dig through his shoulder bag and pulled out a small tin pot. Then the stranger collected some firewood, carefully laid the twigs for a small fire.

The dragon was watching all this with great interest and, honestly, was even a little surprised. Not everyone who came to the tower offered him tea with berries and mint.

“What’s your name, human?”

“John Watson from Nottingham.”

“And you’re not a knight…”

“No… Can you breath on the firewood a little bit?”

“Yes, of course.”

Greg conveniently set fire to the branches, causing them to sparkle and crunch due to the heat.

“What is your name… If dragons even have names,” John asked, putting the pot on the fire.

“Of course they do. My name is Gregory, but you can call me Greg.”

The beast settled down in such a way so that he was close to the new acquaintance but not close enough to crush him. 

“Nice to meet you.”

There was an awkward silence that the dragon broke a few minutes later.

“Watson, I am certainly an ancient and wise animal, but I cannot understand it. Why are you making me tea instead of running away, you know that I can just eat you.”

And at that moment, the creature noticed that John nervously swallowed, his breathing increased, and there was a little sweat on his forehead.

“But I’m not gonna eat you.”

“Really?”

“Pinky promise.”

“Whew.”

“So, why?”

“I was so scared, I said the first thing I could think of.”

Greg quietly laughed, although from the outside it did not seem like a harmless laugh, but rather that this dangerous monster was going to douse you with the deadly fire.

“Don’t worry, little man, I’m not going to burn you or eat you. You haven’t made my tea yet, and I’ve never had this drink before.”

Realising that the dragon was joking, John nervously laughed while putting his hand over his heart. He’s quite the joker.

“You want to tell me about yourself? 'Cause you’re really interesting.”

“Ahem, sure.”

So John told him.

At the beginning of his story, the man still felt uncomfortable, as no one had ever been interested in his life story, much less a dragon of great size, but the deeper John dwelled into  his story, the less uncomfortable he felt. By the end of the story, he felt a connection to Greg, and he even felt the urge to drink a nice ale with this creature.

So what did Gregory find out about John Watson? He learned that the blonde man came from a poor family and helped his parents with the household. It seemed that the future of this man was predetermined: he was born a peasant and so he would die one too, but at a young age Watson became interested in medicine and asked to be a student to a local expert. The family didn’t like John’s passion, because who would dig potatoes when their father passes away? That’s right, the only man in the family. However, Watson managed to persuade his parents, who allowed him to practice medicine in his spare time, but still they destroyed dreamy castles at every opportunity, reminding their son of his duty.

Unfortunately, father said hello to God much earlier than expected, having died from typhus, and the Watson family found themselves in a distressing position. First of all, they had to be supported by John alone, and second of all, the mother and sister had the disease, and the money for the medicine was woefully inadequate. And at the very moment, when John was ready to give up and pour as much alcohol into himself as possible, he heard of a prince in the castle, for whose rescue he had been promised an exorbitant sum.

That’s how Watson ended up at the tower with the dragon.

“...I just had no choice.”

“Gee, man, I don’t envy your fate.”

“I’m not too happy about it myself.”

Watson stood up and filled the cup with tea from the pot to offer it to Greg. The dragon opened its ugly mouth, allowing him to pour the drink on its tongue.

“It’s a shame there’s so little of it,” John said, making himself comfortable in his spot. 

“That’s right, because tea, as I understand now, is beautiful.”

“I’ll make you a whole barrel sometime.”

“You’re a kind man, John Watson.”

The dragon took a close look at the man, noting both the meager clothes and the dirt from the trip. John wasn’t a knight, but he wasn’t a miserable peasant either. Although his armour did not shine with wealth (he actually didn’t even have any armour) and he did not reek of a spirit of wealth, this man was not dirty, he was actually quite tidy, and nobility and the kindness of his heart could be seen in his eyes that were filled with a saturated blue.

“I’ll let you through.” Greg saw a glimmer of hope in the eyes of the traveler. “But I must warn you, the prince is in the tower by choice and does not want to leave.”

“I was wondering why you were so friendly. Stories used to say that the dragon was bloodthirsty and kept the prince in the tower like a trophy.”

“Even if this Sherlock Holmes was made of solid gold, I wouldn’t want to have this trophy anyway.”

“I guess it does take a really terrifying character to hide out from everyone in a tall tower.”

“Tell me about it, the prick’s already got on my nerves.”

Then Gregory told his story about how he, poor thing, tolerated His Highness’s abusive behaviour by listening to complaints and rudeness every day. However, despite this, the dragon stressed that Holmes was not so bad, he had problems with his head, but what man does not have them?

“I don’t even want to worry him after what you said…” John was thoughtfully gazing upon the cracking fire. 

Greg didn’t say anything, and he looked closely at the little red burning flower, his baby.

“But I have no choice.”

“I’m not gonna stand in your way. If you can get him out of the tower, it’s gonna be the event of the century, if you can’t…”

Both of them fell silent. 

“Okay, I’m going. I have to try.” Watson rose abruptly and went straight to the tower, full of confidence.

“Good luck!” Gregory hollered at him, comfortably settling in. 

He was sympathetic to the man, but he sat down in such a way so that he could see all the action perfectly. If John succeeds, the creature will eat grass for a week.

“Your Highness!”

Silence. 

“Please, I need to talk to you!”

The silence cheerfully twirled in the air.

Sherlock was obviously ignoring him, and he wasn’t even planning to show his face from up there on the tower.

“I’m John Watson of Nottingham, and I need your help!”

John was already ready to turn around, when a curly-haired crown appeared in the window.

“You say you came from Nottingham?”

“Yes.”

“Are your shoes dirty?”

Watson was getting annoyed. His mother and sister are dying somewhere and he’s asked about shoes!

“The dirtiest!” Watson answered frustratingly. 

“Could you drop one of the shoes to me?”

To his face, of course, even with pleasure, but Watson remembered the dragon telling him about the prince’s experiments and his fanatical hobby of collecting garbage.

“If I throw it, I could miss, and the mud will come off.”

“You have a second one!”

“I’m not a marksman.”

“What do you want me to do?” Holmes seemed to be in a panic about losing such a valuable specimen.

“Come down and get it yourself.”

He could see how Sherlock began to run around the tower, trying to understand whether this was a trap or not, but “Dirt from Nottingham”, which was so good for the ear, was literally pulling him out of the tower. 

“I’m coming down.”

John realised he had a chance, but then he didn’t know that instead of piles of gold coins, he’d get something much better.


End file.
